


U.R.A. Fever

by hyunwoo



Series: Colour My Heart verse [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:18:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyunwoo/pseuds/hyunwoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been happening since Tony and Steve got together. Barton had suddenly turned into a too gentle and too cute friend that would ask her about her day, check if she was alright, bring her Russian Caravan tea with pryaniki in the middle of the night and just chat about nothing in particular. But every time they were about to kiss, he’d just smile and stand up, wishing her goodnight and vanishing from her floor, leaving her aroused and alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	U.R.A. Fever

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, I've decided to do a Clint/Natasha PWP (I must admit I'm not really an expert on f/m, but here it's. Clint and Natasha were a background couple in Part 1 of this series and I wanted to explore this pairing a little more so here it's, hope you like it! xx

Natasha Romanov lay in her bed, tossing and turning, not able to get quite comfortable enough to fall asleep. She kicked her covers off, willing the heat of summer to die down before she keeled over. She briefly considered calling someone to help fix her newly broken air conditioner, but after seeing it was three in the morning, she decided against it. Images of her latest dream floated behind her closed eyelids and she groaned, trying but failing to get them to disappear. She flipped onto her back, stifling a moan as her sweat-slickened thighs rubbed together, creating a delicious friction between her legs.

Natasha made a sound of discontent and swiftly took off her white tank top, which was sticking to her body. She gasped when her already hardened nipples met the humid air in her bedroom, feeling almost too cold and yet so good. Flashes of her dream came back so strong she had to open her eyes, fearing that if she saw anymore she'd lose control and call the object of her fantasies to come and take care of her in the naughtiest of ways. It had been going like this for nearly a month, and Natasha wasn't sure she could take much more of it. It wasn't as if she wanted to have these thoughts about him, but her subconscious was kicking into overdrive, projecting the most animalistic sexual acts in her dreams.

When the dreams had first started, she laughed them off, thinking that she was just so tired and stressed because of the team. But after a few days, they began to creep up on her while they were practicing, and she found herself wondering what it would be like to actually be with him - again. Not in a relationship, exactly, but as something purely sex-driven just one more time. Sure, she wasn’t very sure if he’d make a great partner, someone she could easily get along with, but that was thrown to the wayside the moment she would look at him. Nothing but pure desire would be left, and she'd find herself reaching out to touch some part of him. He'd catch her once and had grabbed her hand at a dry firing, squeezing it gently and smiling at her. Not knowing what to do with her, she just rolled her eyes and watched her actions much harder than before.

Natasha had always found Barton physically attractive – they’ve fucked before, for fuck’s sake - but never thought much of it after they feel into the friend zone as Tony used to call their current relationship. But after the dreams had started, she began noticing smaller things that just outright turned her on. The way he narrowed his eyes and bit his lower lip when concentrated to shoot an arrow suddenly became arousing. His bright, sarcastic smile was suddenly a subject of interest. His ridiculous jokes, only a few months ago, she would have found annoying, was quickly her favourite thing to listen to. The way he teased the entire team – especially Tony and Steve – was all of sudden a funny thing to watch.

She couldn't be sure if he had noticed her unusual staring, her blatantly licking her lips whenever he'd laugh. She'd imagine that open mouth on her, anywhere and everywhere, scouring her already heated skin with his lips and tongue. Natasha would pay special attention to his strong arms, flexing hard muscles whenever she had a chance to watch him exercise with Steve and she would nearly lose her composure as she imagined her fingers squeezing those strong biceps, easily able to pin her down and bring her to climax within mere moments. She would constantly cross and uncross her legs, shifting this way and that in her seat in a meeting or during dinner, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from him because of the moisture that would build between her legs.

It has been happening since Tony and Steve got together. Barton had suddenly turned into a too gentle and too cute friend that would ask her about her day, check if she was alright, bring her Russian Caravan tea with pryaniki – a kind of honey flavoured Russian biscuit she thought she’d never find outside her country - in the middle of the night and just chat about nothing in particular. Every now and then, while watching movies or reading a book quietly, Barton would rest his head on her shoulder or on her lap and the situation would turn awkward, they’d stay too close, staring at each other for endless minutes and almost kiss but he’d just smile and stand up, wishing her goodnight and vanishing from her floor, leaving her aroused and alone.

As she lay in her too-hot bedroom, she unconsciously reached for her phone, her breathing laboured because of her overworking brain. Natasha was able to stop herself just before hitting the send button, his name and number on her screen. She groaned and threw her phone onto the floor, scolding herself for nearly calling him to beg for sex. It had been a long time, she admitted to herself since she had had any kind of release. She had held out as long as she could, hoping that if she didn't delve into her fantasies, that they would just disappear, but the fact she nearly called him told her it had the opposite effect.

Sighing, she took her moistened shorts down her legs, gasping from the movements, her sex suddenly aching with need. With hurried movements, she turned off her side table light and lay in the middle of her bed, shifting this way and that until she was comfortable enough to do what she pleased. Her hands started at her neck, her nails gently scraping along her skin, down to her heaving breasts. She cupped mounds, closing her eyes and picturing his hands instead of her own. She pictured him kneeling between her legs, but only his hands touched her. Her back arched off the bed as she pinched her nipples simultaneously, the mixture of pleasure and pain forcing a moan to pass her parted lips.

One hand stayed on her breast, pinching and plucking at her hardened nipple as the other skimmed over her stomach, down to her hipbones. Making sure to not use her nails, she made small circles around them, a spot on her body that always made her that much more turned on. She pictured his plump lips on them, licking and kissing each hipbone in turn until she could barely breathe because she was moaning so loudly. Her heart pounded in her chest as she hastily slid her hand over her pelvic bone and her fingers found the spot she wanted him the most.

"Oh," she squeaked as her hand was instantly coated with wetness.

Natasha parted her soaked folds, groaning as a million sensations flowed through her body when her fingers ghosted over her sensitive clit. She cursed when she applied pressure to it, rubbing up and down for a moment before going lower, tracing the entrance to her soaked pussy.

"Oh, God," she gasped as two fingers delved into her tight heat, a jolt of sheer pleasure wracking her body. "Oh, Barton."

She stopped suddenly, her eyes springing open, only a small amount of light filtering into the room. She'd finally said it aloud, finally admitted it to herself that it was Barton she had been fantasizing about. Natasha took a few deep breaths before closing her eyes and taking a slower approach, wanting to relish the feel of that slow build to climax. She once again imagined it was his deft fingers sliding in and out of her, that it was his hand on her breast, kneading it and pinching each nipple in turn.

"Barton," she moaned, the heel of her hand pressing against her clit each time she thrust her fingers in deep.

"Natasha?"

Natasha shot up, her hands instantly stopping what they were doing and reaching for her gun on the nightstand.

"Whoa! Wait! It's just me!"

Her gun trained on the doorway, she blindly felt for the light, clicking it over and then instantly regretting it.

"Barton?" she asked, hoping to whatever God there was that he would suddenly disappear and she'd wake up from the nightmare she was sure she was having. She blinked hard, but he was still there, dressed down in a white cotton shirt and pair of black shorts and white socks.

"Oh!" he squeaked, his eyes widening as he gave her a once over, his weapon quickly lowering so he could use one hand to cover his eyes. "I am so sorry!"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she screeched, placing the gun back and covering up with her light green sheet.

"You called me!" he exclaimed, peaking around his hand so see if he could look again. He dropped his hand and set his Glock on top of the dresser against the wall to his left.

"I did no such thing!" she retorted. Natasha just barely managed to stop herself from telling him that she was going to but had caught herself first.

Barton took out his phone and showed her the display screen, which showed her number, name, and running time of nearly 11 minutes. "I thought you were in trouble. You called me and kept really quiet, I thought that maybe someone may have broken into the tower and you were trying to ask for help or something."

"Oh, fuck," she breathed out, covering her face with her hands, more embarrassed than she had ever been in her entire life. She didn't have to ask how he got in, knowing that even if the elevator requests a password to access her floor – basically everyone in the tower had their own password to their own floor - Barton knew it. Steve had required Tony to create a universal password after a mercenary called Mauler hacked into Tony’s system and tried to kill Bruce. Steve had been concerned that if a real emergency happened on another's floor, it would be impossible to get in without Tony’s or JARVIS’s help, which meant talking and it, of course, it would screw everything up.

"I'm sorry, Barton, I didn't mean to scare you. I dropped my phone earlier; it must have called you when it hit the floor."

"Don't be ashamed," Barton said, unconsciously taking a step toward her. "Self-pleasuring is a very common, even healthy thing –"

"Shut up," she groaned, hunching forward and begging the tears building behind her eyelids to just wait until he was gone. "Just leave."

"Can I ask you something first?"

Natasha threw her arms up in defeat but still couldn't find the courage to look up at him.

"Why me?" he asked quietly. "Do you miss me?"

"What?" she asked, finally meeting his blue eyes, which were trained upon hers.

"Why do you… Fantasize about me?" he asked, clearing his throat. "I'm just curious."

"Barton… Get out," she said, her voice quiet but harsh.

"Natasha, I-" he started, but she cut across him.

"Get out!" she practically yelled, just wanting crawl beneath her covers and disappear.

"Seriously, listen," he tried, but she silenced him as she jumped out of the bed, the sheet covering her front half. He allowed her to grab his arm, but he didn't budge when she tried to push him out of her room.

"Barton, please," she begged, tears filling up her eyes, "Just leave. I’m a human being, not some kind of a freak. I was jus-"

"I'm aware of that." he cut her off.

"Then please, just leave," she whispered, no energy left to yell.

"Natasha, I was asking for me," he explained, ducking his head to try to catch her eyes. "I’m sorry if it sounded weird, but I just didn't know what to say."

"That's fine," she said in a short tone. “Now please, just leave."

"Not until you answer my question," he said firmly.

"Why do you pick now of all times to bust out the 'I'm not taking this one laying down' card?" she groaned.

Barton looked confused. "What?"

"I don't know!" she cried, wanting to just get him out as fast as possible. "Forget what I said before, alright? I don't know why I fantasize about you, Barton, but I do. Happy?"

A wide smile suddenly lit his face. "Extremely."

Natasha spluttered for a moment, thrown off by his reply. "It's not as though I have feelings for you, Barton, I-“

"Shh,” he whispered and she finally met his eyes questioningly. He smiled in a way Natasha had never witnessed before. It was primal, feral, and purely sexual. "Let me take care of you, Natasha."

"What is going on?" she breathed out, her head spinning from his change in demeanour.

"In case it's escaped your notice, Agent Romanov, I'm a human being as well," he said seriously. "You aren't the only one who needs sexual release sometimes."

"What has gotten into you?" she asked, barely able to take in his words because of the shock she had over his attitude.

"Is it my lack of fear?" he asked in a mocking tone. "The lack of being scared of you to hurt me or maybe because I didn't run screaming like a girl when I saw you naked? Because I'd really like to know what that's supposed to mean, it’s not like I’ve never seen you without your clothes on."

When he put it like that, Natasha felt like a complete bitch. "Barton, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes, you did," he said nonchalantly, shrugging. "That's okay, I'm used to it. You aren't the first person to treat me like an idiot, Natasha."

"If we're going to talk about things, can I at least get dressed, please?" she asked, feeling horrible and yet still extremely aware of the fact that she was standing before the object of her wildest fantasies, only a sheet held against her front.

Barton shook his head. "There's nothing more to talk about," he said, reaching out and covering her hand that was holding up the sheet with his own.

"Barton!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

"Natasha, if you tell me to get out again, I will," he said in a very serious tone. "Otherwise, shut up and just enjoy whatever is about to happen."

Natasha's mouth fell open, then closed, then fell open again. "Are we seriously doing this again?" she finally asked.

He gave her a lopsided smile. "Want me to spread the news that sometimes you don’t kill every man you sleep with?"

"Do you ever shut up?” she asked with a short laugh.

He shook his head, stepping so he was pressed against her. He tugged on her hand, surprise flashing in his eyes when she let him guide her hand down, the sheet going with it. Next thing either of them knew, their arms were around the other, their mouths pressing together roughly. Barton took fast control of the kiss, sucking Natasha's bottom lip into his mouth, biting down lightly and running his tongue along it. She groaned and fisted his shirt, retracting her lip and replacing it with her tongue, sloppily finding his and moaning as she tasted the unique flavour of his mouth. His tongue twined with hers, chasing it back into her mouth before he skimmed his along the back of her upper teeth, something that she'd never experienced, but found extremely erotic.

One of his hands raked into her dishevelled hair, his fingers curling in order to make a fist, pulling the silk strands tight enough to cause a twinge of pain, but she moaned in approval. Her hands scoured his back, pressing him closer, gasping against his lips when she felt something hard press against her abdomen. Suddenly realizing that the sheet was no longer between them, she became determined to shed the rest of the barriers keeping her from his skin. She pulled away from his delicious kiss, smirking when he groaned as she replaced her lips on his neck, her tongue sweeping along his warm skin. Her hands slid down his back, his head turning to the side to give her better access, closing his eyes and shivering as her nails made incoherent patterns down to the hem of his shirt.

"Natasha," he breathed as her teeth sunk into a particularly sensitive area.

She hummed her approval at his response and kissed the spot to soothe it before biting down again, sucking hard on the skin that was between her teeth, knowing it would leave a huge mark, but neither seemed to care. Natasha finally made it to the hem of Barton's shirt, stepping away just far enough to pull it up. His arms rose quickly, allowing her to pull the shirt off and throw it carelessly behind her, not even giving him a second to look at her before her lips were plastered to his again. He wasted no time with niceties, plunging his tongue between her parted lips on a mission, leaving no crevice within her mouth untouched.

"Oh," she gasped as he pulled her close again, their heated torsos pressing together, the skin on skin contact lighting them on fire.

"Mmh," he mumbled, detangling his hands from her hair and placing both on her unclothed hips, his breath hitching as he felt her gently rotate her pelvis against his.

Barton's slim but large hands gripped her firm hips, pressing her closer and giving back in kind, loving how she whimpered against his mouth. His fingers trailed up her sides, smiling as she trembled against him and pulled back from his demanding kiss in order to pant loudly. He watched her face, unable to tear his eyes from her parted, swollen lips as he continued higher, one hand stopping on her ribcage, the other tracing the side of her pert breast. He didn't want to lose the feeling of her body against his, but the need to explore every part of her overpowered that. He left enough room only to get his hand between them and he cupped her breast, his eyes rolling as his hand moulded around the supple flesh, her hardened nipple obvious against his palm.

A low noise left her throat as he squeezed her breast, loving the size and weight, massaging it slow circles until he was satisfied. He turned his hand slightly so her nipple was between his thumb and pointer finger, biting his lip to keep any sound out as he watched Natasha's face grow with anticipation. Not wanting to make her wait, he applied pressure, rolling the hard pebble between his fingers and he couldn't stop the low groan in reaction to her soft cry of pleasure, her head falling back.

"Barton," Natasha breathed, the sound low and almost inaudible but it caused something within him to snap.

He was not gentle as his hand found her round backside, roughly cupping both her breast and ass, pushing her lower half hard against him. She responded in kind, rotating her hips and crushing her mouth to his, biting his lip and sucking his tongue into her mouth when he tried to deepen the kiss. Her hands cupped his jaw, holding his head in place as she playfully nipped and kissed him, and he couldn't help but smile. She cried out against his lips when he rolled her nipple again, the sound going straight to his already erect cock. She suddenly pulled away from him, and his hands left her body immediately, afraid something was wrong.

"So, you've been fantasizing about me, too, Clint Barton?" she asked seductively, her hands roaming over his muscular chest and stomach.

He nodded dumbly, not able to find his voice.

"Really?" she asked, her fingers toying with the button to his shorts.

"Since the first day I laid my eyes on you again," he finally admitted. "You're gorgeous, Nat."

Natasha tried not to let the confession deter her even though she was extremely surprised. She unbuttoned his shorts, her eyes widening when she saw nothing beneath them but skin.

"Commando, Barton?" she asked with amusement.

"I wasn't exactly dressed when my phone rang," he explained. "I got here as quickly as possible."

She smiled at him, kissing him gently and grabbing the top of his shorts. Natasha began pushing his shorts down, did the last thing Barton expected, and unceremoniously dropped down to her knees in front of him. His impressive length sprang forth and Natasha couldn't help the surprised look on her face. He was fully erect, beautifully so, long and wide. After he stepped out of his shorts, she wrapped her hand around his thick shaft, wonderment clear in her eyes. She applied a small amount of pressure, stroking him once from base to tip, enjoying manipulating the smooth skin encasing what felt like pulsating steel.

She nearly jumped when he moaned, nearly forgetting there was a person attached to the hard length. Natasha wet her lips, giving Barton only a second's notice before she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. His hands slid into her curly hair and balled into fists, pulling the silky strands tight enough to hurt, but she didn't complain a bit. He guided her movements, pushing her down halfway before yanking her hair, forcing her to nearly release him before he shoved her back down. The fact that Barton was controlling her, not allowing her to move a single inch without his approval, made her pussy drip with want. It created an electrical pulse that ran through her veins and limbs, her skin feeling as if it was vibrating with anticipation of what he'd do to her once they were on the bed. If they made it that far.

"Stop."

His command was quiet and breathy, but Natasha instantly relaxed her jaw and allowed him to pull her away, his arousal falling from her hot mouth. Barton pulled her up and slammed her into the nearest wall, his hands searching all of her as his mouth took hers hard and fast. She could barely breathe, but that became unimportant to her as his hands pried her thighs open, his agile fingers finding her dripping core and spreading her wide for his other hand's exploration. She screamed into his mouth as two digits slammed into her soaked cunt, the heel of his hand pressing against her swollen clit. He scissored his fingers inside her, curling and then uncurling them, but not moving up and down. She tried to thrust her hips, but he had her pinned from top to bottom, a clear show of dominance that left Natasha begging for more.

"Like taking control, huh?" she panted, breaking free from his mouth in order to breathe.

Barton shoved his fingers up higher, forcing her to stand on her tiptoes in order to accommodate the intrusion. "Like being taken control of?" he retorted huskily.

Natasha could only whimper in reply as he ground the heel of his hand against her sensitive clit.

"You do, don't you? Tell me," he demanded his lips right by her ear. "Tell me you like me taking control of you."

"I do," she replied hazily, not having a clue what was going on, but not daring to question this new Barton.

"Uh-uh," he whispered. "That's not the right answer."

"Yes, sir," she moaned as his fingers curled between her tight walls. "Yes, sir, I like it."

"Good girl," he responded.

Mercifully, he retracted his fingers a few inches before thrusting them back in, the friction so damn good that Natasha couldn't stop the cry of pleasure that left her throat. She cried out in frustration when he stopped again. He surprised her by picking her up bridal-style and silently walking her to the bed. He dropped her onto the bed, his face completely emotionless. For just a second, Steve crossed her mind, as did Tony, two of the men she knew that never ceased to ooze dominance. Barton was suddenly lumped in with them, but none of the others had ever made her so wet and desperate for release as the man standing before her. Before she could ask him to, he kneeled on the bed, his hands finding her knees and forcing her legs far apart. He gazed as her drenched pussy and her damp thighs, his cock throbbing with anticipation.

"You want this?" he asked, his eyes softening as they met hers.

"Please," she begged. "Please, fuck me, Clint."

The use of his first name overpowered any momentary doubts, and he scooted her down the bed. He grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head, the look of shock on Natasha's face not going unnoticed by Barton.

"I won't hurt you," he promised her. "Just close your eyes, Nat. I know you'll enjoy this."

She did as he said, trying to block out the cold chill that swept her from head to toe, a feeling that always accompanied the loss of control. Barton took both Natasha's wrists into one of his hands, using the other to line himself up with her core, rubbing the tip of his erection through her soaked folds. They cried out in tandem as he roughly pushed into her, not stopping until he was completely sheathed within her heat. He paused for only a moment to take it in, but then he was moving inside her. The feeling was unparalleled for the both of them.

To have Barton pounding into her again with no remorse or thought was literally a dream come true for Natasha. And for Barton, it was a mix of emotional and physical triumph. He had never been so dominating, and it gave him a thrill like no other. The fact he had Natasha beneath him, completely controlled by him, was something he'd never been able to imagine in his dizziest daydreams. He took her body as his own, never slowing enough to allow her a moment to take a breath, to reconsider their current position. She was his for the taking and taking her he was.

Natasha tried to claw his hands, to relinquish her for just a moment so she could catch up, but he didn't break their roles for even a second. She couldn't admit to herself that she loved it, that she was relishing in the feel of complete and utter submission. Her body acted on its own, her legs coming up to wrap around his back, opening her up so she could take in more of him. Her hips rose off the own accord, meeting his unrelenting thrusts. After what felt like hours of pleasurable torture, she relaxed her mind. She accepted his persistence and finally gave herself to him completely. Her hands and arms relaxed, her eyes finally opening to stare up into his demanding eyes that were trained on her flushed face.

"Yes," Barton whispered, his eyes rolling to the back of his head with the realization. He had won.

Natasha gasped out a breath as he finally released her wrists. She instantly sought purchase along his biceps as he settled his arms beside her head, his face very near to hers. Barton claimed her lips, not giving her an option as he deepened it, his tongue piercing between her lips and tongue just as his cock pierced her tight cunt harder than before. The kiss was broken as quickly as it started, and Barton ducked his head to the side, his lips finding the side of her neck, the place where he intended to mark her. He chose just behind her ear, a place he knew that would easily be concealed by her hair. He may be in the midst of fucking her brains out, but he was still attempting to be considerate.

"Call me a slut, Barton," she said suddenly.

"I don't –," he started, but she cut him off.

"Please," she begged. "Show me who’s the boss, baby. Call me a slut."

He paused for a moment, and she thought perhaps she had gone too far. In a move that surprised her, he rose to his knees and grabbed both of her legs, untangling them from his back and bringing them over his shoulders. They groaned in unison as the new angle, but he wasn't done with her yet. He grasped her thighs, bringing her hips off the bed and began to pound into her body. Both their backs protested the position but the pleasure was too good to stop.

"I want you to come all over my cock, you fucking whore," he ground out, his eyes closing so he wouldn't have to look into her face as he said it.

"Oh fuck!" she cried. "Don't you stop!"

"My whore," he growled over the loud, wet sound of their skin slapping together time and time again. "Say it."

"Yours," she replied instantly, her back arching off the bed and her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

"That's right," he panted. "Come on, Natasha, let me feel it."

With a keening cry, Natasha's drenched walls became like a glove around him, contracting and constricting around his girth.

"Come on, you little slut," he growled. "Do what I tell you, bitch."

"Oh, fucking hell!" she screamed.

"Yes," Barton hissed. "I'm going to coat this tight pussy in about ten seconds. Come for me. Now."

As if on cue, the strongest, most mind-blowing feeling overtook Natasha, forcing her back to arch a foot off the bed and her legs to quiver as a never-ending orgasm washed over her. She wasn't sure what sounds or words were coming from her mouth as she came around his cock, his thrusts forceful and quick, hitting some hidden spot within her that kept her seeing stars well after she felt him shoot his seed deep into her with a roar of her given name. He continued to thrust sporadically into her as he came down from his high, intently watching her face as she finally collapsed onto the bed. He followed her, careful, not to put all of his weight on her.

"Holy shit," she breathed out, reaching up and brushing the hair off her sweaty forehead. "Clint, that was…. Holy shit."

He nodded. "Yeah," he replied, his mind still hazy.

Natasha turned her head and gently kissed his cheek, causing him to turn and look at her. "I’m sorry for being a bitch when you showed up," she said sincerely.

He smiled at her. "No problem."

"Okay," she replied with a laugh, gently combing her fingers through his hair. He searched her eyes, confused. "What's wrong?"

"You're being nice to me," he said nonchalantly. "I thought you just wanted sex. But you're being nice now."

Natasha couldn't help but laugh a little. "Barton, listen. I don't know what this is, okay? I don't know what's going on with me."

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" he asked suddenly, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on her swollen lips. "A date, I mean. Tasha, we’ve been through this, we’re doing this dance for a really long time. I don’t mind if we continue to have crazy sex and not date, or just call the whole thing off, but if there's any chance at something more, I'd like to explore it with you. Tasha, you know I love you."

Surprised but not displeased by his words, she thought for a few moments. She knew that if she agreed to his request, she might be in big trouble. She might hate him after a few dates, or she could fall madly in love with him – or just admit it out loud. She knew there were bigger consequences to a single date than there were to a hundred nights of no-strings-attached wild sex. She knew he'd be good to his word, and he'd stay as emotionless as possible during their encounters if she decided that was all she wanted. Work wouldn't be tense, she could already sense that. She compartmentalized well, and Barton knew how to shut out the world when he wanted to. She could have exactly what she wanted previous to his arrival, a one-night-stand with the star of her fantasies. Or she could have so much more.

Natasha smiled widely and nodded. "Ok, date it is."


End file.
